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Forged in Identity: Belonging and Becoming

By Retired Sgt. Maj. David L. Stewart

NCO Leadership Center of Excellence

Feb 20, 2026

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A group of men in uniforms are standing on a sidewalk next to a bus.

Little did I expect that a short trip to Parris Island would change how I think about professional transformation. But that is where it started — looking out across the marsh-lined landscape of South Carolina on my way to see how Marines are made.

We went to observe. In my role advising Rear Admiral Klein and the Secretary of Defense on military professionalism, a theme emerged repeatedly across the services: “We want what the Marines have.”

Leaders from every branch spoke with admiration, and sometimes envy, of the Marine Corps’ cohesion, discipline, and pride. Even a former Sergeant Major of the Army once quipped, “Even when they get kicked off the team, they still call themselves Marines” (personal communication, 2015).

That stuck with me. Why? What do they do differently? And more importantly, what are we missing?

We went to Parris Island to find out. What I saw was not just a training model. It was a disciplined system of identity formation, something every service says it wants but few are structured to achieve.

The Yellow Footprints

It begins the moment recruits step off the bus. They’re not welcomed; they’re initiated. Directed to the yellow footprints, they step into something greater than themselves. That simple act is more than symbolic. It is foundational. It is the first, deliberate moment in a transformation that moves someone from civilian to Marine, not just in status, but in identity.

A group of people in camouflage uniforms are standing together, with one of them holding a rifle.

When I returned home from Parris Island, I talked with my uncle, a Vietnam veteran and Marine, to ask if he remembered his first moments on those yellow footprints.

His voice slowed.

Eyes glazed with memory, he vividly described the chaos, the barked orders, the overwhelming shock of it all, and the sudden realization that he had crossed into something irreversible. After more than 47 years, the moment still lived in him. That is when I understood: this was not just a rite of passage, it was a psychological imprint.

As an observer, I saw not just fear or confusion, I saw potential. The environment didn’t just teach behavior, it communicated who you will become.

Rituals That Shape Belief

Every moment at Parris Island is engineered to instill belief. The Drill Instructor Creed is not a slogan; it is a leadership philosophy. Drill instructors do not just enforce standards; they embody the role, modeling the identity that recruits are expected to adopt. The message is consistent: This is what it means to be a Marine, and now, you will become one too.

That process culminates in powerful rites of passage. The Eagle, Globe, and Anchor ceremony was one of the most moving leadership moments I ever witnessed. No music. No spectacle. Just the quiet, reverent transfer of a symbol and all that it represents. I watched new Marines grip the emblem as if it were fused to them, because, in a sense, it was.

The Family as a Force Multiplier

Even more striking was what happened around the formation. Families were not just spectators, they were participants. Cars and trucks bore Marine decals. Parents wore T-shirts with their Marine’s platoon number. Grandparents held signs that read, “My Marine.”

The pride was visible and visceral, and it was by design. The Marine Corps draws families into its identity. That emotional investment pays dividends far beyond graduation. It creates a support network that reinforces the profession and cultivates long-term pride. That is affective commitment, not out of obligation, but out of belief (Meyer & Allen, 1991).

Identity as the Center of Professionalism

A group of people are sitting on bleachers, holding up signs. A man and woman are sitting together, with the woman wearing a red shirt. The man is wearing a hat.

What became clear is this: professional identity does not emerge on its own. It is forged through ritual, repetition, role modeling, and shared purpose. The Marine Corps does not simply teach recruits how to act; it teaches them who they are now. The difference is profound.

Discipline becomes instinct, and pride becomes enduring. When the role becomes part of one’s self-concept, the behavior follows, even under stress, even in the absence of orders (Charng, Piliavin, & Callero, 1988).

This is not just theory. It is role identity in action, implemented with discipline and consistency. This is one of the reasons the Marine Corps produces such cohesive, committed professionals (Ashforth & Mael, 1989).

What Is Stopping the Rest of Us?

This model is not secret. It is not proprietary to the Marine Corps. But it is hard, and it takes time. It takes leaders willing to model values before enforcing them. It takes a culture that sees every ceremony, every phrase, and every interaction as part of a narrative that binds the individual to the profession.

Most services know the value of identity but treat it as an afterthought. We focus on skills, readiness metrics, compliance, and, too often, we hope commitment follows. But what if we started where the Marines do? With belonging.

Imagine if Army training organizations were just as deliberate. Imagine if graduation ceremonies, NCO inductions, or even unit in-processing were structured to affirm who a person becomes, not just what task they perform. Imagine if families felt they were part of that process, not just visitors, but vital participants in the creation of a professional.

In every formation, ceremony, and ritual, we should ask: Does the audio match the video? Do our actions, environments, and leader behaviors reinforce the identity we claim to develop? Because if we say we’re developing professionals, the process itself must be professional, intentional, and identity-driven.

A table with candles and letters spelling NCO.

Closing Reflections

Parris Island reminded me of what I already knew: professionalism is not about what you do, it is about who you are.

We do not need to become the Marine Corps. Instead, we need to stop admiring what they have built and start building our own equivalent, one that is rooted in our values, history, and mission. The blueprint is there. What is required is discipline, time, and the belief that shaping identity is not an extracurricular effort. It is the mission.

In an era defined by rapidly evolving technology and contested domains, it will not be weapons and equipment alone that determine success. It will be Soldiers and leaders whose identity is inseparable from their commitment, professionals who act with conviction, cohesion, and moral clarity under stress. Strong identities build strong units, and strong units win wars.

The forge is hot. Are we willing to step into it?


References

Ashforth, B. E., & Mael, F. (1989). Social identity theory and the organization. Academy of Management Review, 14(1), 20–39. https://doi.org/10.5465/amr.1989.4278999

Charng, H. W., Piliavin, J. A., & Callero, P. L. (1988). Role identity and reasoned action in the prediction of repeated behavior. Social Psychology Quarterly, 51(4), 303–317. https://doi.org/10.2307/2786758

Meyer, J. P., & Allen, N. J. (1991). A three-component conceptualization of organizational commitment. Human Resource Management Review, 1(1), 61–89. https://doi.org/10.1016/1053-4822(91)90011-Z

U.S. Marine Corps. (2015, November). Eagle, Globe, and Anchor ceremony speech. Parris Island event. (Personal observation by author, 2015).

 

Retired Sgt. Maj. David L. Stewart is chief of plans (G-5) of the NCO Leadership Center of Excellence (NCOLCoE), Fort Bliss, Texas. His last duty position was as senior enlisted leader for the Center for the Army Profession and Ethic (CAPE) and for the Senior Advisor for Military Professionalism (SAMP). He is a Class 57 Sergeants Major Course graduate.

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